I had gone through Customs with my luggage and it was on the conveyor belt. The belt stopped. A bell rang. A customs officer asked me if this was my bag. So far so ordinary.
Then they became kind. And chatty. They asked me about my day, and made jokes, and put my luggage on a trolley for me. I have been a bureaucrat. I knew I was in the shit. I got nervous. They asked is this your signature, and are you aware this is a legal document, and did I pack my bags. Yes, yes. They put a cross on my form and sent me to a special table with a referral for the Finder.*
The Finder was Nick Chan. He put his gloves on. Both sphincters tightened.**
He searched in my bag and bugger me, he Found. Two manky mandarins emerged, from the very bottom of my bag. They had been there for days and I had forgotten about them. I was shocked. Kindly, he explained that I had signed a legal document by declaring that I had no food or produce with me, and kindly, he told me about a thing called STRICT LIABILITY.
He directed me to sit Over There. I sat on a plastic seat, separated from my fellow passengers, and waited. Nick took my mandarins away. Time passed. I wondered if I would end up on some dreadful reality TV programme about Border Control, and whether I could get away without legal consequences if I mugged a bit for the camera and generally humiliated myself. Oh wait, I had already humiliated myself.
Nick returned. He showed me a laminated sheet of paper with writing on it and explained to me again about STRICT LIABILITY. They were going to fine me. I was very upset. I have supported Greenpeace for twenty years, for fuck's sake. I care about biosecurity. It's not like it's rhino horn or the precursors for meth. I genuinely did forget about the two mandarins. Maybe I could just eat them.
Nick was kind. He completely understood. He explained that I had signed a legal document. STRICT LIABILITY meant that he had to fine me. Would I like to pay now or later? I took the proffered fine notice and left. The fine was for $400.
So that's like, let me work it out, $200 a mandarin. Guys, don't let this happen to you. Eat your goddam fruit. Or don't eat fruit at all. But be warned, Nick Chan the Finder has a very specialised skill set. He will hunt out your fruit and he will Find it. And he has a mean pair of gloves.
* Like this was Hogwarts or something.
**We have two sphincters. Not many people know this.++
++ By both sphincters I mean both of mine. Not mine and his. I don't know what his sphincter was doing. Maybe when you are a customs officer your sphincters just tighten in a sort of muscular empathy with the person you are rummaging? It is, by the way, called rummaging. I used to be an industrial relations officer in charge of the pay and conditions of customs officers and they got an allowance for rummage. I should think so too. I felt kinda sorry for Nick, because fining people for mandarins is almost as bad as stopping people getting money at Inland Revenue. But I felt more sorry for myself.
